


internal politics

by bottleseason



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: (no actual fights mostly implied stuff), Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, god i think i put more thought into the timeline than the writers and i'm not proud, parentdale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottleseason/pseuds/bottleseason
Summary: He reached for the beer, in that slow, deliberate way he moved sometimes. Sinuous was probably the word.Serpentine, Fred repressed the thought.Set between the Andrews taking in the Serpents and the mayoral election. FP and Fred have a heart-to-heart while sitting on the backyard and drinking some beers.
Relationships: Fred Andrews/FP Jones II
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Fred Andrews was unrestful. After an hour and a half staring at his ceiling he finally decided to get up and do something. Hashing out some last minute plans for the campaign, revising flyers, God, just having a damn beer still sounded better than pretend he could stay in bed. He closed the door carefully, went down the stairs and walking to the kitchen.  
Downstairs was surprisingly quiet and he was about to open the refrigerator door when he noticed a dark shape on the porch near the sliding door. Apprehensive, he approached it slowly until he realized it was just FP, jacket turned around as a blanket, facing the backyard. Fred was debating whether to open the fridge and risk waking him up when FP made the decision easier by turning around to look at him. He knocked lightly on the glass, to which Fred opened the door.  
"Couldn't sleep?" Fred shook his head. "Me neither."  
They both stared at the backyard, at the small clumps of blankets and pillows and people hurdled together.  
"Actually, I was going to get a beer and I think we have some low-alcohol ones left from when Mary was here. You want one?"  
"Sure."  
Fred went back to the kitchen and glanced at the clock on the fridge after retrieving the bottles. 3:17 AM. When he walked back FP was sitting up straighter and had put the jacket back on. He reached for the beer, in that slow, deliberate way he moved sometimes. Sinuous was probably the word. _Serpentine_ , Fred repressed the thought.  
"I thought you were going back to the trailer park."  
He chugged the bear and nodded towards the grass "I just couldn't leave then alone."  
They kept the silence for a while, alternately taking sips, FP seemingly lost in thought, Fred leaning against the door frame. Finally, Andrews slipped the door close and sat at the porch.  
"These are so bad. Why does anyone drink these"  
Jones snapped out of his trance and let out a breathy chuckle. "They really are."  
"Is Jug here?"  
"No. I think he went back to the trailer with Betty."  
"Isn't it dangerous?"  
FP snorted. "Try and tell him."  
Both left the implications of that float in the air. Archie didn't even need to do much convincing to get his dad to abandon his mayoral campaign and stay at Jughead's room with him while the Jones patriarch battled it out with the Ghoulies. Under this low lighting his bruises were a nasty dark grey. Duties of a king, he supposed. He couldn't even pretend to understand it all, the biblical sacrifices, former allies tearing each other to shreds, even an entire group of people being able to risk it all for some twisted sense of loyalty. But the fact is that the kid needed someone, and if he was the one available, so be it.  
"I'm guessing you're counting with the southside vote." The sarcastic tone could barely counteract the bitterness.  
" _FP..._ "  
"No, really Fred. You could've just asked."  
"That's not why I'm doing this."  
He let out a dismissive hiss, "Riverdale's golden boy strikes again."  
"It really isn't... I mean, we probably won't be able to make it without you guys, but that's not why I am doing this."  
"Why then?"  
Fred tapped the neck of the bottle on his chin. "First, because Jughead asked. Second, because what Hiram is doing is plain cruel and I don't know what moral claim to the office I could have if I didn't help these people. And then..." he glanced quickly to the side "I guess I still hold a fair amount of guilt for... well. Everything."  
FP looked at him and lifted his eyebrows in that peculiar expression of his. Interest, amusement, surprise, all mashed together with an end result that made him hard to read. It was one of his specialties, proved useful time and time again. Not even suppressing emotion, just making it harder to logically untangle them. "I don't need your pity, Andrews." He then proceeded to open a grin that could easily slit a throat. "But I guess it is awfully appropriate, isn't it? We ended up exactly as everyone expect us to. Me, a complete fuckup, and you, with your life of white picket fences and _running for fucking mayor._ "  
"Oh, for sure. Nothing says white picket fence suburban dad quite as much as being shot and then running for mayor against a woman that cheated on her mobster husband with you." Fred couldn't help but outwardly laugh, holding it back just as much as to not wake up the people sleeping at a few meters from them. In another day, without the sleep deprivation, not inconsiderable amount of intoxication provided from his actually alcoholic beverage, and guarantee that his counterpart, unlike him, was fully sober, he would've just tried to defuse the situation. But the edge kept leaking out of his voice when he said "Can't remember when was the last time I heard you use 'awfully' in a sentence, Jones. High school, maybe?"  
To his surprise, FP didn't immediately snap back. He just leaned away against the wall and seemed very invested in reading the beer's lable. "Yeah, well. As much as my son might want it, wit isn't all that necessary when running a gang. If anything it might hinder you."  
"Oh, for the record," Fred gestured toward FP, who didn't look up, "I don't think you're a fuckup. Not anymore, at the very least. And I think most people would agree."  
"Shit, Fred," the sharp wide smirk had somehow turned into a self-deprecating smile, but even in this low light it couldn't distract from the tears forming in his eyes, "It's not very put together to have your kid almost be murdered, is it though?"  
"Jesus Christ, FP, he did it because he  
_admires_ you. It was dumb, and impulsive, because he is a stubborn teenager and that's what teenagers do. But even through all his anger he still wanted to save those people. Save the thing you constructed for them..." they both looked back quickly as a grunt came from one of the improvised tents. Fred lowered his voice. "He did it because he thinks you're a good father." FP managed to do a quick dismissive gesture, to which Fred replied: "And you are. I mean, at least better than your own dad."  
"I see we're setting high standards here." He flexed his free hand, as though to feel the skin stretching around the small scars, not all from his job. Unlike his father, he never pushed Jug to join the Serpents, quite the contrary, most of the time. The kid just had such potential, could reach so much higher. He expected respect, of course, not only because they were, in their own misshaped way, their family, but also because he knew his damn child, and if he didn't learn it fast he would end up dead in a ditch before he could legally drive. But he never wished for a dynasty. It took him quite a while to start liking that position, loving those people, and then Jug picked it up so fast. The proverbial apple seemed to have rolled over all the way back to where the older trees lay. It made him wonder sometimes if the whole not hitting your kids thing even payed off, ending the cycle of violence his ass, but he always immediately put away the thought. It would destroy him to see Jug's wonderful sensibility be slowly drained away, and that wouldn't change with his son's choices. Never hurting his son was the one thing he never regretted.  
"I really am sorry, by the way, for firing you. I know it made things worse." Fred cut his train of thought.  
"It wasn't your fault. You put you and your son first, everyone would've done the same."  
"But still, I could've thought of something."  
The other shrugged. "I _am_ glad it didn't rub off too much on the kids. I don't know what would've happened to Jug without Archie all these years. If the last month has been any indication..."  
"Well, in that case, I'm happy Jug stayed by Archie's side. I doubt I could've get my son back if it wasn't for Jughead calling out his bullshit."  
What he didn't say is that there were moments were he was terrified of his own child. He never showed, but this vindicative, bitter person made him question whether he had completely failed, if he somehow unconsciously set up this path. Mary noticed it right away, and although that dinner had been uncomfortable, he felt greatful to not enable this unjustified hatred for all these people that now sat in their lawn. If that Dark Circle, or Hiram, or his own anger had gotten him even a little deeper... He shivered. It didn't matter now.  
Fred changed the subject, "How's Alice, by the way?" Thinking about their situation was only gonna drown them further into useless desperation.  
The abruptness seemed to catch FP by surprise, enough for an expression Fred couldn't decipher not to be filtered (annoyance? No, something softer) and he sighed.  
"Well, her husband is a serial killer. I guess that can't feel too good. I haven't had much time to talk to her, but it seems like she's managing..."  
They keep talking away as they finish the beers. Stuff that would be tremendously upsetting now just seems banal, amenities. Even the silences felt less loaded now, the low, very particular sound of lots of humans together filling the air where topics lack. Fred wasn't that tired, but when he glanced at the fridge's clock and saw that it was already past four he decided it was best to try and go to sleep. He got up and opened the door but stopped when he remembered something.  
"If you're not going back, do you want to sleep in the couch? It's free now."  
"I'm fine. I think I'm gonna stay out here."  
The answer weirdly pleased Fred. He tapped the doorframe a few times and said:  
"At least get the blanket there, then."  
The door was already halfway closed when FP held out his hand to stop it.  
"Hey Fred. Thank you. You're a good friend."  
Fred smiled to himself. Then FP slid the door all the way closed and went back to looking over that weird pattern of plaid and leather.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a flashback from a conversation fp and fred had in their mid-twenties. fred invites fp for a ride and makes a proposition.

"Hey, wanna go for a ride?"  
Fred had a beetle green 1984 Chevrolet Cavalier that he had inherited from the senior Andrews. They used to go on rides to Pop's on the senior year of high school, a little after his father died and before FP dropped out. Well, Freddy probably still did it after, his ever rotating circle of friends that formerly populated the backseat now riding shotgun, going to further more interesting places. The roof of the car was pulled down and the prospect of a little wind in that hellish heatwave was very much appealing.  
It was also the last car FP wanted to see right now.  
"What's the occasion?" he answered, looking up from his chair slightly sinking into the mud of the trailer park. He couldn't force himself to think of an excuse to decline the invitation.  
"Nothing" Fred said. Then tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "I want to talk to you about something."  
FP drew in his switchblade and got up. He was curious, and a car ride beat having to deal with Tall Boy's bullshit. After murmuring a bemused "Ok" he opened the door and threw himself on the passenger seat.  
"You should probably take the jacket off, we're going to the Northside."  
"Well, unless you're trying to get me a job or a date it shouldn't matter that much, should it?"  
"You know stuff's been tense since they robbed that electronics store. Yeah, it wasn't your guys, they planted those VCRs, I know," Fred waved away FP's protest before he could start, "but I don't see why we should risk it." He sighed. "Also it wouldn't be the end of the world if it were a job interview."  
Resigned, FP threw the jacket on the backseat, not before retrieving his switchblade and putting it in his back pocket, which Fred promptly pretended not to see. It was true that he was unemployed for a while now. Every since he got back from the army, actually. God, how dumb his 17-year-old hopes seemed now. He had been recruited barely months after he dropped out, with glowing promises of completing his education and even perhaps getting a college degree. Of course it turned out not to be that simple, and he hated every second of being in the military. When he got the news his father had skipped town the very few other threads holding him there seemed quite pathetic, and after four years he left service. When he got back to Riverdale the Serpents no longer had a king and were a derailed mess and, well, it's not like he had any other obligations in the way. But gang leader was neither as glamorous as it could seem or the most stable occupation you could have. So, a day job wouldn't hurt.  
"Where are we going, anyway?"  
"It's a, uh, surprise."  
"Now I really feel like you're trying to trick me into a job interview. And look, you know I can't stand city hall and I doubt they'd hire me anyway."  
Fred chuckled "I wouldn't dare trying it, I'm not even working there anymore. It's not like they have no reason to not trust you either."  
"Why did you quit?"  
He stopped at a intersection and a young woman in a hurry crossed giving a quick nod to the car, the light turning red in the middle time.  
"Well, I still think reelecting mayor Louis was better than the alternative, but there was some... Weird stuff going on in the office." The light turned green. "I couldn't deal with it I guess."  
FP snickered "Jesus Christ, You'd be a terrible mayor. You and your golden moral compass would run this city to the ground."  
The car jerked forward and FP lost his already precarious balance for a while, slamming against the door. "No, you're right," Fred said, "I probably don't have the moral elasticity of a gang leader."  
Right now FP really regretted not being in a knife fight with whoever Tall Boy pissed off this time. "I didn't say I'd be a better option" he rubbed his right elbow and looked at Fred's shit eating grin through the rearview mirror. "Asshole."  
Fred laughed. He often caught himself missing high school, how tight they seemed back then. Of course it was great to not see FP in a cast or with a dark eye every other week anymore (ironic, considering the circumstances), but it was undeniable they had been driven apart. They kept contact for a little while after he got in the army, but it wasn't a surprise when things turned a bit cold. Even though they were very close, they became friends not too long before high school ended, and Fred was quite popular, so it wasn't like he was alone when the other dropped out. FP, of course, had the Serpents, so now it was probably the first time in years since they repeated the ritual of driving around in Fred's car just for the sake of it.  
"Where are you working now?" FP asked, flipping distractedly through the radio. "Does the cigarette lighter still work?"  
"It does. I'm working at the Lowe's outside the town, but that's actually what I wanted to talk about." FP offered a cigarette, which Fred denied, then nodded for him to continue. "I've run the numbers and I think I could start a construction business."  
"That's great, man. Any reason you decided to become an entrepreneur now?"  
Fred didn't take his eyes from the road "I think I'm gonna propose to Mary."  
FP really liked Mary. She was clever and incredibly funny, besides having always been one of the prettiest girls in their class. Saw right through his Northsider bullshit and never gave him the time of day (which if anything just proved her intelligence), but they really hit it off after she started dating Fred. To be honest, he didn't even know they were that serious, but they made a great couple. Still, the news gave him a weird pang of something he couldn't name.  
"Really? Congratulations!"  
"I mean, I haven't asked yet—"  
"She'll say yes, you know it."  
Fred tried to repress a smile "Anyway, the reason I told you is... I want you to be my business partner."  
FP blew out the smoke. "Fred, this... I'm glad but you know I don't have the money and—"  
"It's ok, I'll cover for the first few months. I _want_ to do this. With _you. _"  
"I don't know, I..." he couldn't rationalize the knot forming in his throat right now, so all FP did was nod and look to the other side, hoping Fred wouldn't notice how stunned he was.  
"Hey, we're here." Fred stopped the car at a desolate looking little piece of land, with grass as tall as their knees.  
"Here?"  
Fred got out and slammed the door close. "The future location and Andrews & Jones construction. The owner is selling the plot for dirt-cheap because it's so close to..." he eyed the jacket in the backseat "... Anyway, I thought it would be a good place to start."  
FP stubbed the cigarette on the sole of his boot and jumped over the passenger door. The land was really quite ugly, little patches of ground showing throwing the dying grass, surrounded by beaten down farm land, a hairy black mutt lying by the side of the road. He studied Fred's profile, hopeful and concentrated, eyes running through the plot as if already planning where each thing would go.  
He punched his friend's shoulder lightly. "Yeah. Yeah, ok, let's do it.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i also thought this was supposed to be a oneshot but here we are. i actually caught up with the show so i don't even have plausible deniabilty anymore. it'll not go that much longer though, probably will only have one other chapter.
> 
> on the bright side i learned to tag a little bit better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even after loosing the election Fred still has an idea to deal with the disenfranchised Serpents.

That night, the trailer park had an almost unreal quality. The tents that once populated his backyard were know thrown in between the cars, people circling barrels with open fires. Close to his trailer, looking down at one of the said barrels and surrounded by other dark figures, FP could almost make Fred forget that the title of king was only a symbolic one. Then, someone close said something that made him laugh, and suddenly the illusion was broken, reality shifting back into focus. Fred tapped the roof of the truck and finally got up and waved. FP took a while to look up, and gestured for him to come closer. The other serpents gave him a diverse array of looks, ranging from recognition, to strangeness and even some hostility, while he waited with an inquisitive expression.  
"Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you about something."  
"Oh, sure," FP leaned towards the door, "do you want to go inside or—?"  
"Actually I wanted to show you somewhere, do you think you can leave for a bit?"  
He considered for a bit, then asked if a man close by could keep things under control while he was out and call him if anything went awry. Tensions had not completely gone away since the election. When the man agreed FP reached for his jacket in the back of a folding chair and nodded. "Okay, let's go then."  
The radio was on and catching a signal from out of town, playing a somewhat cheesy mid 80s song. The only radio station that still survived in Riverdale was critically understaffed and played mostly news and local ads, resulting in a thoroughly miserable listening experience, so they didn't even bother trying to change the current one.  
FP knocked rhythmically in the window with his knuckles, the car still sounding uncomfortably silent even with the glossy synths in the background. "Couldn't take the election, huh."  
Fred sighed. "Well, most of the Northside was very invested in the Lodges and the Southside didn't have that great' a turnout."  
"Sorry I didn't shill for you enough" he grinned. Fred chuckled back.  
"I'm sure you did your best."  
"So are you going to tell me where we're going or is it a surprise or something?"  
Fred turned down the volume of the radio. "I've been talking to Mary, and she suggested that if we can prove there were people relying on the White Wyrm to survive we could maybe take legal action against Hiram. Get him to pay some form of compensation. And it gave me an idea."  
"How is she, by the way? Mary."  
"She's good. Been considering moving back here for a while, we think it'd be good for Archie."  
"For a bit it looked like you'd give up on the divorce."  
"Oh no, we didn't... She's seeing someone else already."  
Not that this was a very good rebuttal. The city was not exactly known for its stable marriages, dating someone on the side was a hobby so common sometimes both parts of a couple took part in it. It still peaked FP's interest, though. "Is it serious?"  
A slight discomfort showed through Fred's demeanor. "It is, I think so. Pretty sure she was living with her girlfriend back in New York."  
"Oh." FP repressed a laugh. " _Oh._ " If Fred noticed the amusement in his tone he didn't show it. Not that Fred had ever been anything but accepting, but he still had that particular discomfort when it came to the subject, the slight over-politeness that kept him safely distant from it. Even if his high school and early 20's experience was bizarre in any other area, his love life had been anything but adventurous. FP could not say the same thing, exactly. It was an open secret that the Serpents were the closest thing to a safe haven in the fairly conservative little town that was Riverdale. Being raised between them meant the idea was never as absurd as it might seem for the other kids in Riverdale High, and he had a thing with some other guys from the gang. Nothing lasting, but then neither were his flings with women. Nothing truly lasted until Gladys came along and, well, even that didn't really end neatly. He looked up at the rearview mirror and saw Fred staring at him, only then realizing his smile had faded without him noticing. He cleared his throat.  
"Have you met her?"  
Fred looked away suddenly. "Who, Brooke..? No, she only told me about so I could prime Archie."  
"Brooke..." FP repeated quietly. "What is this place you want to show me, anyway?"  
Fred's relief to change the subject was palpable. "As I was saying, we think we can get Hiram to pay a decent amount of compensation and — Oh wait, we're are." He took a sharp turn into a badly paved road. "I remember seeing a posting for this lot and it being very cheap. It's not much, but it also isn't that bad for some emergency housing."  
They didn't get out of the car, both stayed looking through the passenger seat window. The place wasn't ugly, but was decidedly small. Slightly smaller than the trailer park, actually, smacked between a truck stop and a farm. But still, it was bigger than a biker bar.  
"Fred, that's..." FP sounded stunned, "that's great but surely there wouldn't be money enough. Maybe for the lot but not for the houses."  
"But what if Andrews Construction did it? Charged only for the materials. I'm sure we could find some volunteers and I'd give the guys some bonus at the end of the year. What'd you say?"  
FP sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "You already did so much for me and the boy, and the campaign for sure costed a lot, I can't accept it Fred. I just can't —"  
"And who said I'm doing this for you?" Fred's tone had just the slightest teasing edge to it, "I only want you to shill for me."  
FP lowered his hands and slowly looked up. "Already gunning for the next election, huh?"  
"Gotta start early." Fred put the truck in reverse and backed out of the narrow road.  
FP shook his head and broke into laughter, Fred soon following. On the rest of the way back Fred explained the minutiae of the plan, occasionally stopping to ask questions about the families who were displaced. FP gladly answered, humming the radio tunes in-between topics, and looked at the other, eyes still always glued to the road, but his head somewhere else, the calculations and materials almost made palpable by his concentration. He had always liked that part of the business: costs, materials, schedules. Neat little diagrams, axes of time and personnel and space. For the not so long time FP worked with him, he mostly avoided the numbers, always kept to organizing the team and designating chores. Fred was charismatic and the workers liked him, but never really enjoyed being the Leader; the one to order people around. In the beginning, the mere presence of FP was commanding, convincing guys double his age to bend to his will, keeping even the most rowdy of sites in schedule, and God, they were _young_. At the time Fred was sure half of the team would let concrete get poured over them if FP just asked them to. When he left, no when he was _thrown out_ , the team didn't rebel or anything, but the drop in efficiency was more than noticeable. Even at his worst FP still had an unmatched talent for dealing with people.  
When they arrived back at the trailer park, a good chunk of the people already gone, but still a lot of Serpents talked through the night, the chatter and warmth of the fire giving an almost baroque aura to the otherwise bare lair. Through the side view mirror, Fred could see the barely restrained affection for them in FP's expression and for a second could almost forget he was looking a gang.  
"Hey," he waited for FP to look back, "I was thinking... Maybe you could get back to Andrew's Construction. It hasn't been the same since you're gone and... I don't know, maybe it would be good to have some Jones back. If you want to."  
He seemed to consider it for a minute, but then he placed his hand on the back of Fred's neck and kissed him. He tasted like the smoke coming from the barrels outside. "I don't," he pulled his hand away, "but thank you." He propped himself against the door and got out of the truck.  
FP didn't look back, but if he did he would've seen Fred rest his head in his hands on the wheel and chuckle. He shook his head and started the car, pulled away from the trailer park and got on the way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm "done" with this idea and can finally be in peace.  
> who could've possibly imagined that writing naturalistic sounding dialogue for riverdale characters would be hard. truly unforeseeable.
> 
> also I now realize making the second and third chapters structurally similar leaves the first one kind of out of place, but oh well, hope you enjoyed the ride!

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even like riverdale, i just can't stop thinking about it.  
> i want to say that I both wrote this before getting to 03x04 (all of the things I got right were pure coincidence) and am not really sure that the andrews have a sliding door. i also won't check.  
> hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
